


The One Where There's No Gunther

by ijemanja



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Fluff, background canon relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/pseuds/ijemanja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All are welcome at the Coffee Kingdom, even pain in the ass vampire queens. (No Ice Kings, though.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where There's No Gunther

**Author's Note:**

  * For [preromantics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/gifts).



> There are a few lines of ~~Rainicorn~~ Korean in this story. To see the translations you can hover your cursor over the words, or I've also included them as endnotes if your browser doesn't support hover text. I'd like to apologise for any errors, my Korean is very basic, and I'm afraid Lady Rainicorn isn't as eloquent in this fic as she usually is in canon.
> 
> There's also some nonsense technobabble passing for science herein. I apologise to any scientists reading this fic.

The first PB heard of the notorious new customer at the coffee shop was when she encountered Lady and Peppermint Butler out the back, playing Rock Paper Scissors to decide who would be the one to serve her.

Lady lost. 

But then, that was what you got for playing a game of chance against Peppermint Butler.

"He always wins," PB reminded Lady reasonably, but Lady had served this particular customer for the last three days, and reasonable wasn't going to cut it.

So, having an angry rainicorn baring her teeth, pawing the air, and about to throw down with an oversized peppermint candy with unnatural connections to the dark forces of the underworld was really not on PB's schedule for that afternoon. She held up her hands and called for peace.

"ALL RIGHT, COOL IT YOU GUYS OR EVERYBODY'S FIRED."

"Even me?" said Cinnamon Bun, who was walking by with a tray of dirty cups.

"Especially you, Cinnamon Bun. Look, I'll take this customer, okay? How difficult can she be?"

* 

The notorious new customer was a tall young woman hovering a foot over the baked goods display. 

Fangs, bite scar on the neck, and also the hovering - well, she was clearly a vampire, PB noted. Of course, all were welcome here at the Coffee Kingdom. And just because she was a _vampire_ , didn't mean she was here to drink their blood or anything. Because they didn't serve blood; they served coffee and smoothies, mostly. 

Was that why Lady and Peppermint Butler didn't like this customer? 

"Hello and welcome," she said as she took up position behind the counter, "I'm the owner and manager here, Princess Bonnibel Bubblegum, but everyone calls me PB. What can I get for you today? I recommend the éclairs; I just came up with the perfect vanilla-sugar quotient in the cream, and now they're totally sucratic."

"Yeeeah, I have some pretty strict dietary requirements," the girl said.

"Oh, well we do have a selection of vegan pastries. And there's also the carrot cake - it's gluten free, nut free, soy free, dairy free, low-sodium and low-carb. It's not vegan."

"That's cool, it's just that they're all kind of... hmm, what's the word I'm looking for? Yellow."

PB blinked. "Yellow?"

"They're too yellow, yeah. And brown. Ever notice how like all baked goods are yellow or brown?"

"I have," Cinnamon Bun said, as he wiped a table over by the window.

"Thanks, C-Bun." The vampire gave him a thumbs up and then turned back to PB. "Anyway, I'll just have one of those apples." She pointed at the small basket of fruit kept by the register for health-conscious customers. 

"Oh, no problem," PB said. So the girl was a little odd, but not difficult. She didn't know what the others were talking about. She grabbed the order pad and a pen. "And what beverage can I get for you? Will it be to go?"

There was no answer, and she looked up to see the girl had floated away to one of the tables at the back of the store. She'd helped herself to an apple, and she waved it over her head without looking around. "I'll just take it over here," she said.

"Wait, just the apple?"

"She always gets apples. Just apples," Peppermint Butler hissed, appearing at her elbow. 

"Well, if she has allergies..." She trailed off as she watched the girl pull back a chair and then just hover over it rather than sit down. With her _feet_ on the table. And then she chomped down on the apple, but she didn't take a bite. "Wait, what was that?"

"She's a vampire," Peppermint Butler said. 

"Duh."

"She drains the colour from our fruit. It's weird, boss."

"Oh, well that's fascinating." Weird, but fascinating, PB thought, still watching the vampire girl. "Wish she'd take her big dirty boots off my furniture, though. You say she's been here every day?" 

"Since Monday," Peppermint Butler confirmed.

Just then, as if knowing she was being discussed, the girl turned round, grinned a fang-y grin, and tossed the red-drained apple across the room. 

PB just managed to catch it, and immediately dropped it. "Hey! _Ew._ " 

Lady joined them then, peering over PB's shoulder. "그것들을 만지기 싫어. 징그럽다," she said.

Cinnamon Bun lumbered over and picked up the indeed creepy, colourless apple from the floor. "It's empty of all life and vitality, like you said one time that my head is empty. But that was a lie because I'm full of carbohydrates."

PB sighed. "Go wash dishes, Cinnamon Bun."

The coffee shop was busy at that time of the afternoon, and PB got caught up serving other customers and didn't notice the girl leave. But she went over to the empty table to wipe it down for Emerald and Peanut Princesses who were looking for a place to sit. The girl had left money for the apple on a napkin. PB picked up both coins and napkin and looked at them.

Coffee Kingdom's napkins were red and white-checked. This one was white. 

"Did... did she suck the red right out of this napkin?" She was frowning as she went back behind the counter. "And she didn't even leave a tip."

*

The next time the annoying, floating customer showed up, PB, Lady, and Peppermint Butler made Cinnamon Bun deal with her.

*

PB had spent the afternoon at the library, but was back at the Coffee Kingdom in plenty of time to take the evening shift. Since Lady had things well in hand when she got there, PB got herself a coffee and a snack and sat down on the shop's comfy sofa with Jake to hang out for a few minutes.

Finn was there, too, but he was sitting over in a corner with Flame Princess, sharing a milkshake.

"Cute, ain't it? Young love," Jake said.

"Sure, it's all fun and games till someone loses an eyebrow. Or the internal core stability of the planet."

"Don't sweat it, Finn knows to use protection."

Over at their table, Finn had donned a silicon oven mitt in order to hold Flame Princess's hand.

"See?" Jake went on. "It's fine. They're fine. I have a lot of positive thoughts and feelings about cross-cultural social interactions. I think there's more that brings us together than divides us. It's like sandwich fillings. There's more foods that taste good between slices of bread than foods that don't, you know?"

"Oh, Jake," PB sighed. "You're such an optimist."

"Also I'm super handsome," Jake said absently, with his chin on his hands, busy gazing at Lady over behind the counter.

PB relaxed back into the cushions and sipped her latte. It was perfectly made, and the pastry she was almost finished eating was delicious - Peppermint Butler had a deft touch with choux. 

She was so busy sometimes, splitting her time between managing the coffee shop and her school commitments; trying to find enough hours in the day to fit in work shifts alongside lab hours. The private laboratory she kept upstairs on the second floor over the shop made things easier, yes. But still, she rarely had the chance to just sit here and enjoy her favourite place in the world. 

Because she loved the Coffee Kingdom. It was her happy place, and much as she was devoted to science and getting her Ph.D., it was here in the shop that she could unwind, be with her friends - just _be_.

Looking around, most of the other tables were full at this hour, the regular crowd all here. 

A group of the princesses had pushed two tables together, sharing gossip over skinny frappuccinos and scones. There was Tree Trunks - she owned the organic grocery store next door to the Coffee Kingdom, and must have already closed up for the day. She was with Mr Pig as usual, and they were chatting with Nurse Poundcake and Dr Princess. A couple of bananas in their campus security guard uniforms had just come in for a box of doughnuts, and - 

"Oh no," PB groaned. "Not again."

Ice King - when had he shown up? There he was suddenly, hanging around the princesses, bugging them as usual. The guy had no sense of boundaries. And just because his frozen yoghurt store was on the corner opposite the Coffee Kingdom, he seemed to think it was cool to just drop by, like, all the time.

Ugh.

"I can get you free froyo, you know," he was saying as he loomed over the table, "any time you want, baby, just let me know and I'll hook you up. Wildberry Princess, did you know we have a new peanut butter froyo? Great new flavour. Peanut Princess, we have wildberry froyo - always a classic. Slime Princess, I bet we have some of whatever you're into. Huh? Huh?"

All of the princesses were sitting with identical, unhappy glares on their faces.

PB sighed. And then yelled. "Finn!"

"Huh?" Finn looked up from his little bubble of liking someone, eyes instantly narrowing as PB jerked her head in Ice King's direction. He stood up. "Don't worry, PB, I got this."

Finn just had a knack with the Ice King; it was always easiest to let him handle situations like this. Soon enough he had the old guy herded out the front door and every princess in the place, PB included, breathed a sigh of relief. 

Keeping an eye on the proceedings, PB saw them stop out on the sidewalk to talk to someone. It was the vampire girl again; she was practically a regular herself these days. She came through the door, putting down a large black parasol, and waved to Jake when she caught sight of him before heading up the counter. 

PB noticed Jake flinch and then hesitantly wave back.

"You guys know her?" PB said.

"Yeah, that's Marceline. She's the vampire queen. _Vampire_." Jakes eyes got very big. "But, you know, I'm cool with it. Finn thinks she's okay."

"She comes in here a lot. I don't really know why - she doesn't drink coffee, she doesn't eat delicious baked goods..." 

"Well yeah, because she's a... _vampire_."

PB watched thoughtfully as the girl picked up her usual - still with the apples! - and headed to the back of the store to take up her usual place, hovering at a table.

"She's kind of a mystery," PB said. "A kind of rude, sarcastic mystery. But I'm going to figure her out. In fact, maybe I'll do it right now." She stood, determined to head over there and get to know this Marceline better. It was the civilised thing to do. 

Jake grabbed her arm. "Don't, man, don't mess with her," he warned in a high, slightly hysterical voice. " _Vampire_."

"Oh, Jake. She eats fruit. She can't be so bad. I'll just go over and - oh but wait, not right now."

She had just noticed Lady making a show of hanging up her apron and looking pointedly at the clock on the wall. Her shift was over and it was time for PB to start.

"Good choice, man," Jake said. "Don't even go there."

*

As it happened, PB seemed to be even more busy than usual over the next few weeks, and so despite her intentions, she didn't really get the chance to get to know Marceline more than in passing. 

Oh, she found out a few titbits second-hand. Lady found out from Jake who heard it from Finn that Marceline was a post-grad at Oooniversity, too, getting her MA in musical composition. 

She also played the bass guitar - PB figured that out for herself pretty easily since Marceline almost always had the instrument with her, often pulling it out to pick out chords while she floated above her usual table up the back and sucked on apple-skin pigment.

But that wasn't much information to go on when a vampire queen was a regular feature in your humble establishment. A vampire queen who left creepy, colourless fruit around the place, no less. But PB had staff to deal with that. The fact that she tended to put her feet up on the tables was more of an irritation - girl could _float_ , she didn't have to put her feet on anything. Literally.

The clincher, though, was the whole deal that happened in the restroom. 

*

Coffee Kingdom's restrooms were pretty small, and PB stood waiting in the ladies' for the single stall to free up. When it did, it was Marceline who emerged. 

Appropriate, bathroom etiquette 'heys' were exchanged, and then: 

"Oh," PB said, "hey, you forgot to wash your hands."

Marceline paused at the door. "Forgot?"

"You _didn't_ wash your hands."

"What, these babies?" Marceline came closer and waved her hands right in PB's face.

"Gross, man!"

The two women stared each other down for a few long, tense seconds.

Then Marceline poked her cheek. "Boop." 

"Hey!"

"Oh no, now what are you going to do? Contamination of your pretty face, help, it's an emergency."

"You are a very obnoxious person, has anyone ever told you that?"

"At least I don't judge people based on stupid stuff that doesn't even matter."

"I feel safe in saying that hygiene standards are perfectly acceptable criteria by which to judge the crap out of people."

"Boop."

"Stop that. Ugh, since you're not practising basic cleanliness I guess you can leave, can't you. Do you mind?"

"Not at all, princess, I'm just surprised a perfect being such as yourself even _has_ body functions. You're blowing my mind."

"Get lost!"

Marceline laughed as she left.

PB shook her head, still frowning. "That chick is the blurst."

*

See, she tried to keep her previous good intentions in mind. Civility, hospitality, that whole junk. 

Marceline was new in town, maybe she was just having trouble settling in.

Maybe vampire skin couldn't support bacterial life making hand-washing less of a necessity. She asked Marceline for a skin sample for testing but was turned down. And laughed at.

Maybe Marceline was just a jerk.

But: civility. Hospitality. Friendship? Well, no, that was going a bit far. 

PB decided to get proactive with this whole regular-vampire-customer thing. Maybe Marceline needed to feel more accepted and included. PB was a genius, and the kitchen was just another laboratory, and she had always prided herself and her business on being accessible to all. So she got right on it, eschewing her actual laboratory for the Coffee Kingdom kitchen, where she and Peppermint Butler put their talents to work.

The next time Marceline darkened the Coffee Kingdom's doorstep, she found a display case filled not with the usual yellows and chocolatey browns, but with newly featured glistening raspberry tarts, cheerful cherry danishes, luscious red velvet cupcakes, and PB's latest triumph - a tray of perfect pomegranate macarons like rows of bright red jewels.

Marceline bought an apple.

PB decided she hated Marceline.

And PB hardly hated anyone. Just the health inspector, the Ice King, Slime Princess sometimes (she knew why), that Duke guy from over at the Nut Hut... actually, PB hated plenty of people. Seriously, she was a girl who knew how to hold a grudge, and what was one more? This Marceline chick was On The List.

*

She tried to be the bigger person, though. She was a professional, after all. She only ground her teeth a little when she greeted Marceline a few days later. Marceline probably couldn't even hear it.

"Good morning, what can I get you?" 

"I'll take a double-shot iced mocha latte and a blueberry muffin. No wait, changed my mind. I'll have... hm... maybe one of those delicious-looking cherry danishes? Nah, I think I'll have -" 

"AN APPLE. I KNOW. LET ME GET THAT FOR YOU." 

"Whoa, Princess, what flew up your frills today?" 

Most customers at the Coffee Kingdom didn't get their orders lobbed at their heads. But most customers weren't practically immortal with vampire reflexes, so it was just as well.

And 'lobbed' was overstating it, really, it was more of a gentle toss in the _general direction_ of Marceline's head. That was all. And she caught it, so whatever. It was fine.

"Have a nice day," PB said.

"Er," said Peppermint Butler once Marceline had gone to her usual table and PB was depositing coins in the till.

"What?"

"You have to admit, boss, that was a little out of character."

"Hey, do I make a big deal about it when you have those weird little rituals going on out the back to invoke the elder gods?"

Peppermint Butler's face went conspicuously blank, and then he gave her a wide smile. "Doing a great job, as always, boss!" He scurried off to clean something.

She nodded once as she watched him go. "That's what I thought."

*

Shortly after that it came to PB's attention that Marceline was totally acting like a normal customer when PB wasn't around.

Or at least that's what it sounded like when Lady told her Marceline had tried one of the red velvet cupcakes that morning when PB was busy upstairs running experiments in her lab.

To add insult to injury on the Marceline front, the girl had seriously bad taste in friends. Well, aside from Finn. Finn was fine.

But she seemed to get along with Ice King, which was just _weird_. Plus there was the time she came in with a group of ghosts. 

Ghosts made for even worse customers than colour-sucking vampires. They didn't eat or drink anything, they just hung around being jerks to the other customers. And you couldn't kick them out because messing with ghosts was just a bad idea, everyone knew that.

At least the ghosts weren't around on this particular day, though. Marceline was just hanging out with Lumpy Space Princess, which - okay no. She wasn't going to make that joke, it would be mean.

But anyway, there they were, Marceline just hanging there with her guitar as usual, and Lumpy Space Princess also hanging there, being a total suck-up. And what was that about? Everyone acted like Marceline was so cool, just because she had black hair and dressed like a punk rocker and played bass and wrote her own music and was a vampire and had super vampire powers...

Okay, so Marceline was kind of objectively cool.

But she was also rude and obnoxious and annoying, so 'cool' just didn't cut it. Well, not with PB, anyway.

"Oh my blob, it is so totally lumpin' cool that you play bass, Marceline," LSP was saying, as PB unpacked a box of plastic drink stirrers and tried not to overhear. "I'm, like, seriously lumpin' jelly of your talents. Oh. Wait. Oh. Oh-oh-oh my freakin' glob, I just had the greatest idea ever! We should perform a duet together, you and me, it'd be totally lumpin' awesome. I'm an amazing singer, like you don't even know. It's the lumps, girl, there's totally like a whole resonance effect all up in these lumptious curves. It's a lumpin' gift, okay."

PB made a scoffing noise under her breath. How could LSP just be all over Marceline like that? It was just sad - LSP was better than this. 

Before she knew it, PB was on her way over, determined to intervene. 

For LSP's sake.

"How are things going over here? Can I get you anything? Refills? Oh, hey you two, what's the happs, huh?"

"Uh, yeah, you can get me my lumping sandwich I ordered like a hundred hours ago what is taking so lumpin' long?"

"You'll get your sandwich. Marceline?"

"I'm good. Now if you don't mind, me and LSP are busy collaborating on a project. Check this out, LSP." 

She started to play, a cool beat filling the shop, but PB put up her hands. "Sorry, no, you need to stop that. No musical instruments in the coffee shop."

"Since when?"

"Since always."

"I always play my ax in here."

"And you're always breaking the rules. I've been lenient till now. I was trying to be nice."

Marceline raised a very sceptical eyebrow. "You're seriously telling me there is a rule banning all musical instruments?"

PB didn't waver. "Yeeep."

"I don't see a sign."

"I'll have one made."

"What the lump," LSP broke in, "PB, you sound like my mom. Don't leave the refrigerator door open. Clean your room. You can't go to that party, ugh, it's so freakin' unfair, I hate her so much! Come on, Marceline, let's get out of here."

"Right, we wouldn't want to desecrate the princess's ears any longer."

"Yeah, we are so out of here. Oh no wait, you go ahead, I'm staying to get my lumpin' sandwich 'cause I'm freakin' starving to death."

"Whatever." Marceline strummed the ax as she drifted backwards to the door, and she started to sing an impromptu melody in her low, mellow tones: 

" _Love me, love my ax, that's all I ask you to do,_  
_But you don't know me, and you're a fool,_  
_With your convenient rules,_  
_I'm so sorry for bothering you..._ "

"Aw, glob, that sounds so totally awesome, Marceline!" LSP yelled after her. "I'll totally sing it with you once I'm done here. It'll sound even better."

Once Marceline was gone, PB sighed, her shoulders lowering from being hunched up around her ears. Something about that girl seemed to get her all tense for some reason. 

She was about to go check on that sandwich but LSP spoke up again.

"What is up with you, PB, why do you hate Marceline? She's almost as awesome as me and I am really lumpin' awesome."

"Oh, I don't _hate_ hate Marceline. Not really. Sometimes I think..."

"What? Spill the gossip, girl."

"I just -"

"Order up!" came Peppermint Butler's call from the kitchen.

"Oh my glob, is that my sandwich already? Thank the lump, I'm wasting away here."

* 

So of course she didn't _have a sign made_. That would be silly.

No, she made it herself.

She was particularly proud of the lettering. When she hung it on the wall she stood back, hands on hips, regarding it with satisfaction. 

Jake, seated at a table nearby, looked at the sign, looked at his viola, looked at the sign again, and slumped in his chair. "Aw."

*

Cinnamon Bun liked Marceline.

The coffee machine was too complicated. It made liquid every time he tried to use it, but not the right kind.

Anyway, Marceline only bought easy things.

"Do you want a banana, too?" he asked.

"No thanks, C-Bun."

"You're nice. I don't know what Princess Bubblegum's problem is."

"Wait, does PB have a problem with me?"

"Everyone says so. I dunno. She has a problem with me sometimes. I break things. Want to be friends?"

"Huh. This explains a lot," Marceline said as she went off to her table.

"She's nice," Cinnamon Bun said.

*

It was a week later and Marceline had spent the last hour or so sitting under the new sign adorning the back wall of the Coffee Kingdom, picking chords on an air guitar and glaring at PB. 

PB was currently squeegeeing the glass front of the pastry display and glaring right back.

"I'm sensing some tension here," Jake said, propping himself against the counter and blowing on his chai latte to cool it down.

"What? It's fine," PB said. "She just bugs me a little, is all. It's cool, we're all professionals here. Except Marceline, 'cause she just, like, hangs around doing nothing all the time. Seriously, what does she even _do_? Vampire Pain in the Ass isn't an actual career, even if she is really good at it."

"Huh."

"What?"

"Huh."

PB narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here, Jake? It's the middle of the afternoon, shouldn't you be at work?"

"Nah, BMO's watching the phones, and I got my pager if anything comes in. Finn's out on a solo job. I literally have nothing better to do than stand here talking to you."

Finn, Jake and BMO ran a bike courier service out of the shop a few doors down from the Coffee Kingdom. It kept them busy sometimes. Other times, they were just hanging around the coffee shop a lot. Which was usually great. Usually.

"Did I say 'huh' yet?" Jake continued. "Did I mention the 'huh'-ing?"

"Yes."

Jake shrugged. "I'm just saying. Huh. No, I get it. You get off on conflict."

"What? I do not!"

"It energises and enriches your soul, it gives your life meaning."

"It does not!"

"Hmm. I'm thinking it does."

"I value peace and harmony, and the goodwill of all citizens."

"Sure, but what gets you up in the morning is a challenge to set your great big brain against."

"I have science for that."

"How much time have you spent in the lab lately?"

"Uh."

"That's what I thought. You should try to keep all that in mind. The peace and harmony junk especially. 'Cause Marceline's pretty okay, really, once you get to know her. And come on, it's not like she's your nemesis or something."

"Haha, no," she laughed. "Of course not. That would be silly."

From that moment on, not that she admitted it to anyone, PB officially had a nemesis.

And she _loved it_.

*

She had a plan. It wasn't a particularly complicated or difficult plan to implement, which was great, because PB did have stuff going on _besides_ plotting against a customer.

Basically, the next time she put in an order for supplies with Tree Trunks next door at the grocery store, she was a little more selective than usual.

Tree Trunks tried to argue the point. "Well now, are you sure you don't want any?"

"I'm sure."

"Because I always include some -"

"Don't want any."

"Just a few -"

"Nope."

"But I just don't understand, I -"

"Thanks, Tree Trunks, talk to you later, bye!"

*

PB had to head into school to meet with her advisor that day, so she couldn't be there to see what went down when Marceline arrived. 

And she knew exactly when Marceline would arrive that day because Marceline was always there between 1 and 3pm on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and it wasn't obsessive that PB had memorised Marceline's habits and schedule, she just had a brain that assimilated facts easily, it was both a gift and curse.

Anyway, PB got back to the shop a little before 4, and quickly joined Lady at the counter and started making drinks because there was a line and the only one helping out front was Cinnamon Bun and he could only work the milk steamer. Badly.

They got to work getting the next run of orders out quickly but in the next lull PB was quick to - very casually - ask whether Marceline had been by. 

Lady gave her a look. A very judging look. 

"Oh, what, did we have an unsatisfied customer? Sometimes certain items are out of stock and people just have to deal with that. Okay, tell me everything."

And so Lady told her how Marceline had come in as usual. How there weren't any of her usual apples. How Marceline had seemed fine with that, and then Lady had only turned her back for a moment and Marceline had disappeared. It was only a little later that she realised - 

"Realised what?" PB prompted.

Lady turned and pointed to something stashed under the counter. It was an entire tray of freshly baked cream buns. The kind sprinkled with powdered sugar and a cherry on top. Only, every single cherry on every single bun was completely drained of all red.

PB stared at the tray for a long moment then slowly crushed a to-go cup in her hand. "Nemesisssss." 

"Sometimes," Cinnamon Bun said, "in fighting for what we love, we become that which we hate."

"Shut up, Cinnamon Bun."

*

Her next idea was along similar lines as the previous one. Low-investment, high yield, and honestly, at this point, just because she thought it was funny.

So funny that she cackled evilly as she took the crate Mr Pig had dropped by to deliver for Tree Trunks. It was full of Granny Smith apples, big, beautiful and bright green. The cackling earned her some looks from people in the vicinity, especially Mr Pig, but whatever. Sometimes you just had to go with what was in your heart.

*

It was right smack in the middle of the mid-morning lull. The shop was empty but for Marceline and PB, who stood facing each other across the counter. 

It was a bright day outside. Marceline floated there in her long gloves, wide-brimmed hat thrown on a nearby table. She looked down at the basket of bright, shiny, green fruit and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I feel like you're trying to make a point, but I just don't know what it is."

"I have no point other than providing excellent and friendly service to my customers. Would you like to order something, valued customer?"

Marceline shrugged. "Okay, whatever. I'll have one of those tarts, they look pretty good."

There was a pause. 

"What?"

"What?"

"That's it, just like that?"

"Yeah, I'm hungry. I could just fang up on a napkin or a fire hydrant or something, but the red in food just tastes better for some reason. Apples are really good, they're like my favourite, but hey, you make do, you know?"

"Apples are - apples are your _favourite_? You just _like_ them?" PB narrowed her eyes. "I don't buy it."

Marceline shrugged again. "Well, and ordering them all the time seems to really bug you, that's a bonus."

"I..."

PB was caught between vindication and feeling oddly guilty. But Marceline was a jerk and her personal nemesis, and therefore vindication won out. She grabbed a plate and slapped a tart onto it and shoved it across the counter at Marceline. "Here. Enjoy. I hope you suck it."

"What?"

"Nothing. I mean, I won our battle of wills, but whatever, it's cool, I'll be gracious about it."

"Our battle of what now?"

"Don't play coy, you know exactly what's been going on, you with your guitar and your big dirty feet and your _apples_."

"Okay. Look, I know you have some kind of problem with me, and it's been fun messing with you, too, but I have to ask. Is this all some bizarro kind of flirting ritual? Because I'm not that into it."

"Ugh! I - you - UGH. This is supposed to be my happy place!"

"Sorry, dude, I don't know what that means."

"You wouldn't! Happy wouldn't jell with your vibe, would it? Happy is probably super uncool, and I think _that's_ uncool."

"Whoa, you're kind of uptight for a person literally made of candy. And what did I ever even do to you besides, like, exist?"

"Nothing! You've been a perfect delight of a customer. Here, take your delicious pastry. You know what? It's on the house."

"No, I don't want it now."

"Take it!"

"No!"

There was a brief back-and-forth shoving match with the plate before a vigorous push from Marceline sent it flying off the counter and smashing on the floor behind PB.

"Great, now look what you did."

"That wasn't my fault!"

It's possible the situation might have escalated from there, but at that moment the door swung open with a bang.

"Oh glob, 'cause I need this today," PB muttered when she saw who it was.

"Who's that?" Marceline said.

"Who am I? How dare you, it is you who remain unidentified, slave!"

"She's just a customer, Lemongrab." PB came out from behind the counter. "What are you doing here? We had an inspection just last month, we shouldn't be due for another already."

"That is not for you to determine that is mmmmmy prerogative."

"Seriously _who_ is this guy?" Marceline said.

PB sighed and pinched the space between her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. "He's the health inspector. He's the worst."

" _SHOW ME YOUR FILTH, PEON._ "

"There's no filth, come on." 

She had to cover her mouth suddenly to hide a laugh - Marceline was hovering behind Lemongrab, fangs bared, pretending to be about to bite him.

But her laughter cut short as Lemongrab began to poke around inspecting things, because she suddenly remembered the stupid smashed plate and jam tart all over the floor behind the counter. Crap.

She tried to keep him away from the service area, shepherding him around to the restrooms and out back to the kitchen and storeroom, the office, all of which were clean and tidy because PB ran a damn tight ship, thank you.

If only Peppermint Butler or Lady or even Cinnamon Bun had been there to distract Lemongrab for the few seconds it would take her to quickly clear up the mess but they were all out this morning for one reason or another. She was on her own. 

Resigned to the screaming about code violations that was about to ensue, she followed Lemongrab back out through the swinging door from the kitchen and waited as he went round behind the front counter. But after a few seconds when all he was doing was peering at the espresso machine with his usual displeased expression, she followed him back there to find the floor spotlessly clean.

She looked around quickly, but there was no one but her and Lemongrab there. 

Well. Next time she saw Marceline, she was going to have to say thank you, as squirmy as the realisation made her.

Finally, Lemongrab was finished his totally bogus and unnecessary inspection. And he was not happy about it.

"There is no unCLEANLINESS. No... collapse of hygiene standards! This... displeases me. I enjoy the mmmmmbitter taste of others' failures. What am I to cite? MmmmrAAAAAA what is the capacity for citations of health code violations if there is nnnnnNO VIOLATIONS EEEERGHAAAAA WHAT AM I WHAT IS THIS THING CALLED LIFE."

"Right," said PB. "So you can leave now, huh?"

"BBBRRRRYES. I can leave though it is without satisfaction I go."

"So sorry, better luck next time, see ya." PB gladly shut the door on his ass and turned and collapsed back against it with a sigh. 

He was the worst.

"Whoa," said Marceline.

PB jumped as Marceline reappeared literally from nowhere right in front of her. "Whoa! Oh, I forgot you can do invisible stuff. And double whoa - you kind of saved my butt. He would have made such a huge flooping deal about that. Thanks."

Marceline shrugged. "That guy seemed like kind of a jerk, so."

"Yeah, he is a total patoot."

PB experienced something like a true moment of sudden clarity, then. It was kind of embarrassing, actually.

A visit from the health inspector, who was her least favourite person of all time, kind of really put things in perspective with the whole nemesis thing. Marceline was basically a doll next to creepy, screaming Lemonjerk.

"So hey, I... might have been acting like kind of a jerk, too. Not that much of a jerk, Lemongrab sets the benchmark pretty high, but you know. Sorry."

Marceline stared at her for a moment, then smiled. "I like you, PB, you're okay. Kinda intense, but cool, you know?"

"I am? You _do?_ Marceline, I threw things at you. I _made signs _."__

She shrugged. "I respected the effort - details, man, they make all the difference." Marceline laughed, and floated towards the door. "See you round."

And she was gone.

PB stood staring at the closed door until a coupled of candy-cane guys came in, prompting her to get back to work. 

Right after she served them, though, she was on the phone to Tree Trunks again to place another order.

*

"Hey. I..." said PB.

"Hi. Oh, hey, lookin' good," said Marceline.

"Oh. Well, so are you. Your hair looks great today."

"I meant those raspberry cake things looked good. But, uh, thanks."

"Oh! Cakes! Peppermint Butler made those. Want one?"

"Sure, gotta get my daily hit."

This morning's scintillating conversation experienced a pause that would previously have been filled with PB's animosity and/or Marceline's apathetic sarcasm and/or glaring.

PB tried filling the pause with small talk, instead. "Oh, you brought your guitar?"

"It's a bass."

"I know."

"A bass is a kind of guitar though."

"Right."

"Don't worry, I'm just heading to a jam session with some friends later, I wouldn't dream of violating your anti-music regulations."

"Oh, that. I took the sign down. It was stupid."

"Huh. So -"

"Have a nice day, Marceline. Next! Turtle Princess, how are you today? What can I get you, the usual?"

*

"Hey PB," said Finn later that morning. He was there looking for BMO, who had gone out for a five minute break like an hour ago and never come back. BMO had been found hanging out at the Coffee Kingdom because today he felt like hanging out and not working. And Finn was now hanging out at the Coffee Kingdom, too, because he thought BMO was really onto something with that whole thing. 

Smart kid, that BMO, Finn thought, sipping his latte.

"Oh, hey Finn," PB said.

"What's Marceline doing?"

"She's providing ambience."

"That's new." 

"I like it. What?"

"Nothing, it's greeeat," Finn said then flung himself away from PB and hissed, " _BMO, what is going on with that?_ "

BMO, who was sitting on the counter pretending to drink an espresso, replied, "I do not know, but Mr Cinnamon Bun tells me Marceline and PB have been getting along all day. I also myself witnessed Marceline saying 'thank you', very politely when PB brought her an apple. And PB told her it was on the house, and then Marceline said thank you again. And meanwhile she has been playing her music all day even."

"Huh."

"I do not know what is up with that."

"It is uncharacteristic," Finn agreed.

"It is freaking out my internal workings."

"Enh, I wouldn't go that far. Maybe they're both just having a good day. It's nice."

"Oh, Finn. You naive little boy human. Something is afoot."

"I was a foot, once. It was janked up."

BMO got up and walked away along the counter, muttering to himself.

"Now I feel like an apple," said Finn.

*

Marceline was set up in the back corner away from the windows, with a small amp and microphone. She played a few nights a week, now, and PB was getting used to seeing her there when she came down from the lab to help Lady close up the store.

Everything was about done for the night, as PB locked up the register and Lady finished the last of the kitchen duties. PB glanced over at Marceline who seemed in no hurry to pack up herself, kicked back in the air plucking strings absently.

On a whim, she grabbed an apple out of the basket next to the register. "Hey Marcy, go long!"

Jake, seated at the counter, shook his head as he watched the fruit projectile sail past overhead to where Marceline caught it easily.

"Oh, you two," he said. "It's nice you crazy kids worked things out. 'Cause seriously man, things were gettin' awkward."

"Hi Jake," PB said, ignoring everything he had just said as she passed by to go talk to Marceline. "Waiting for Lady? She'll be right out."

Jake shook his head again. "Crazy kids."

Marceline was draining the last of the red from her apple when PB made her way over between the tables to her corner. 

"Hey, man," Marceline greeted her.

"I liked your last set."

"Thanks, just something I've been working on, it's a little experimental."

"You know me, I'm all about experimenting. Uh. You know, with the science. Hah."

"Right. Hey, you haven't been around much this week."

"I've been working a lot, upstairs. School stuff."

"You ever get out of here?"

"I went to the microbiology library just yesterday."

"Whoa, live it up, wild child. I meant out into the big wide world beyond the borders of your nerd-dom."

PB folded her arms over her chest. "You hang out within my borders just fine."

"But I hang out other places, too. I mean, sometimes. Wanna come?"

"Where?"

"Out there. If it's not too scary. Need me to hold your hand?"

"Hmm. Has it occurred to you that we've never before interacted outside of the coffee shop paradigm? Like _never_?"

"Think it'll be weird?"

"I don't even know what you do when you aren't in here bugging me."

"Well, I'm getting my masters in musical composition. I do that, mostly. I play some gigs sometimes - other than here, I mean."

"Well I know those things already, it's just - everything else. You're just this annoying customer -"

"Represent."

"Although admittedly less annoying of late. But out there - you could be anything. I like to account for the variables, but with you I just don't know, yet."

"You could come with me, and you could find out."

"I could. I might like that."

*

"Did you see that, sweetie?" Jake said. "I think they're going out. On a date. A _date_ date."

" 진짜로."

*

When Marceline came in a few days later, PB almost missed her. She was just heading out the back, eager to get back upstairs to the lab where she had put things on hold while she helped out with the lunch rush.

But then Marceline waved at her and she had to stop and say hello at least.

But that was all she said - just 'hi' and then bye, because she really had to get back upstairs to the lab. 

Really. There were things on the burner up there - both literally and figuratively - that were kind of time-sensitive. Not to mention incendiary.

She didn't miss Marceline looking kind of bummed that she couldn't stay and talk. PB wanted to hang out, too - like the other night, when it had just been the two of them...

But no, this was more important. This was _science_.

*

"Oh, hey Marceline. How are you?" PB said in a harried tone. 

It was another busy day. Never enough hours to go around.

"Me? Fine. You okay? That looks like it's about to crush you."

"What this?"

"That fifty pound bag of sugar, yes, that."

"Nah, I'm good. Just some supplies for the lab. I've already taken 2 of these up already, I can manage."

"That's a lot of sugar."

"You'd be surprised how much it takes."

"What does?"

"Oh, listen, I can't really talk right now, I'm -"

"Busy."

"I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure. Okay."

*

Ice King poked his long nose around the Coffee Kingdom's door.

No Finn or Jake. No Princess Bubblegum.

Hm, no princesses at all, dang it.

Oh well, he might as well get his caramel macchiato to go then, he decided.

Ice King stopped on his way out, though, coffee in hand, to go say hi to Marceline. He liked Marceline, she was such a cool gal, and sometimes she was even sort of nice to him, which he didn't understand, but appreciated.

"Hi, Marceline."

"Oh, you. Hey."

"Yeah, me. Sorry. Well what's the matter, you're looking a little glum there."

"What? Nothing's the matter. I'm just hanging out here on my own which - that's how I prefer it!" She played some angry sounding notes on her bass.

"Oh, I get it. Okay. See you later, then."

"Wait, no, I didn't mean - you can stay, I guess, if you want. Whatever."

"Oh I - really? Hey, you maybe wanna come over to my place? I got froyo."

Marceline actually laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess, why not?"

"Wow, you mean it? No one has ever taken me up on that offer. I don't know why, frozen yoghurt is the perfect comfort food. It always makes me feel better when I've been rejected by another princess."

"Huh. Froyo, you say?"

"Oh yeah, it's the best!"

"You got any cherries over there? Maybe some strawberry sauce to go with that froyo?"

Ice King nodded vigorously.

Marceline grabbed her umbrella and her bass, and headed for the door. "Then I think we can make this work."

*

It was after closing, most of the lights were off and the 'closed' sign hung on the door, but it was unlocked so that Marceline could let herself in when she arrived.

PB was there alone, waiting behind the counter, fidgeting, when Marceline showed up.

PB cleared her throat. "I'm glad you came. I know my call was kind of short notice -"

"No probs, I'm here. What's up? Whoa, you look kind of rough, no offence."

PB put a hand to her hair, some of which was sticking up weirdly out of the bun she'd stuffed it into at some point. Maybe yesterday. "I've been up a while. Maybe a few days now, they say time passes more quickly when you're having fun, and I've been having some fun all right, but I still find it to be an inaccurate interpretation of the General Law of Relativity. I mean, maybe if you bring the Special Law into it..."

"Oookay. So you been working on your dissertation or whatever? You done?"

"What? Not nearly. Oh, I've got years left on that baby. Yeeears. Good thing I'm effectively immortal, if you know what I mean. But no, I wasn't working on it. I've been putting the finishing touches on a personal project, and I'm happy to announce it's finally complete. Here." She produced a covered tray from under the counter, and pushed it over in front of Marceline.

"What is it?" 

She took off the cover to reveal a large, blobbish mass, the only distinguishing feature of which was its colour. "It's Red."

"It sure is. Very red."

"No, it's not red, it's _Red_. It's the colour red in its purest, refined form. This right here is the highest-content matter form of Rosa Pigmentosum in the known universe. I, you know," she stopped to yawn, "I scienced it up. For you. Is that cool? 'Cause I thought it'd be cool. I mean, yes it defies the laws of nature somewhat, but I'm going to get a decent article out of my results. The important thing, though, is if _you_ like it."

"You made this for me?"

"Bzuh, yes I made it for you. Try some - 'Red' isn't a flavour my taste receptors can interpret, but I'm hoping it tastes blooby-looby. Here's a fork."

Marceline shrugged and dug out a heaping forkful, considered it a second, then sank her fangs into it. Moments passed, PB holding her breath, and the lump of Red barely grew less Red at all. Marceline sucked harder and the Red hue changed incrementally till finally it was closer to red than Red. She put the fork down, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. She had lifted several feet higher off the floor at some point without her seeming to notice, and she bobbed in the air haphazardly, bumping into a light fixture before righting herself.

"Well? How is it?" PB said.

"Hardcore. Like I want to lick this off your face." Marceline froze. "Did I just say that?" 

"I could be down with that. Maybe after a quick nap, though."

"Glob, right, you should probably go to bed." PB wavered a little, and Marceline moved quickly and scooped her right up into her arms.

"Dude, I can totally walk."

"Just giving you a boost, Princess," Marceline said as she swooped over to the couch in the corner and dropped PB onto it. She bounced a little, then relaxed with a sigh, melting into the lumpy cushions like they were the softest feather bed imaginable.

"Hope you like your damn Red," she mumbled with her eyes already closed.

"It's cool," Marceline said. She'd already gunned it back over to the counter and retrieved the platter and fork, and she settled at PB's side all ready to chow down. "You scienced good, Bonnibel."

"Yeah. I scienced the crap out of it."

*

Upon waking up several hours later to find herself still on the old sofa, PB had the following thoughts in quick succession:

1\. There was Marceline, in her coffee shop again, and not only did it not bother her, in fact, she kind of preferred it this way. Like her happy place had become a plus-one kind of deal.

2\. Marceline had really great hair. She wasn't jealous or anything, her own hair was fine, she was just making a note of it. Besides, Marceline had many great qualities, of which her hair was only one. Marceline was great - even sleeping up near the ceiling, with Red-stained fingers and mouth and a line of dried drool snaking down her cheek. Totally great.

3\. She wasn't that tired any more. 

"Hey," she said softly, and reached up for a hank of Marceline's hair, which was falling like a curtain of black silk right by where she lay on the couch. She twisted the strands around her hand and tugged the sleeping girl back down towards the floor.

Marceline rolled over in the air, and then righted herself till she was standing. "Oh, hey. I totally crashed - it was late and I'd eaten so much, and I didn't want to just leave you there sleeping..."

"It's okay, I'm glad you stayed." PB got up too, then, facing Marceline. "Listen, last week, when we hung out, was that a date?"

Marceline's eyes went wide with surprise. "Well," she said.

"I think we should date."

"You do? But... you don't like me. I'm annoying, and I come in here every day and I don't drink coffee and I do stuff just to bug you."

"You're right. About everything except the part where I don't like you."

Marceline was, at this point, blushing. But she was also smirking a bit.

"The thing about me is that I'm a very focused person," PB continued. She stared down at the strands of hair still wrapped around her hand, silky and black and so unlike her own. "And when I get an idea in my head, yeah I tend to run with it, but that doesn't mean I can't change my mind or that I'm intractable - in fact, part of being a good experimental scientist is adapting theory to results because sometimes those results can really surprise you. My point is -"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. The stupidly awesome gift was kind of self-explanatory, just like before that when you stopped throwing stuff at me and trying to ban my ax from the premises. Aaaand when you actually said you liked me and that you wanted to go out with me like a minute ago. Trust me, I got it."

"Oh, good. I was afraid I wasn't being clear enough."

In reply, Marceline leaned forward, took PB's face in her hands, and kissed her.

"But I would have gotten to this part eventually," PB said after a decently long pause. Then she leaned in for another kiss, drawing Marceline with her as she sank back down onto the sofa.

*

The next morning Jake had just picked up his morning joe from Lady at the counter, and was headed to his usual spot to kick back and read the newspaper before heading over to the office. 

"Hey, what the stuff?" he said, halting in front of the couch. "What's this junk all over the stuff?"

"What, what?" PB said, looking over from where she was sharing a table with Marceline. She saw what Jake was looking at and got up and hurried over. "Oh that? That's - nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Nothing, huh? 'Cause all those stains look kinda disturbing."

Marceline came floating over, too, "Chill out, it's just a little Red."

"Hmm, I don't know what that means. Why's PB blushing like that? And why are you hovering there at such a particularly suspect orientation in space? With the exact same red stuff all over your shirt? I have a mind to be suspicious of both of you."

PB laughed loudly and nervously. "Ha. Ha. What, it's not like we did anything weird with any scientifically engineered foodstuffs in the early hours of this morning."

"That was smooth," Marceline said.

After a lengthy pause, during which Jake looked back and forth between PB, Marceline, and the suspicious stains on the couch, he said, "EEEeeeeeewwwww. I don't even know what you're talking about, but I know whatever it is, it's messed up. You two are messed up. For shame."

"그들은 너무 버릇 없어. 지금 청소해야 돼," said Lady, as she passed by with a bucket of cleaning supplies.

"No need," Marceline said. "I got this." She swooped down and planted a fang into one of the bigger stains on the upholstery.

Jake reared back. "Ugh. Well now, see, that's just not hygienic."

PB's face crinkled in distaste. "Okay, that is kind of messed up."

Marceline was licking her fangs as she swivelled round and stretched out, floating a few inches above the length of the couch, hands behind her head. She waggled her eyebrows at PB. "You didn't think so when we were -"

"Whoa, whoa!"

"What?"

"Shut up is what. And no feet on the furniture!"

"Since when?"

"Since always."

"I don't see a sign. You'll have to make one."

"Yeah, well, maybe I will."

"Ugh," muttered Jake, turning away. "The sign should say 'no flirting before 9AM'. I'm too old for this biz." 

He took his coffee over to drink it at the counter with Lady. He was never sitting on that couch again, that was for sure.

end.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> 그것들을 만지기 싫어. 징그럽다. -- _I don't want to touch them. They are creepy._  
>  진짜로. -- _Indeed._  
>  그들은 너무 버릇 없어. 지금 청소해야 돼. -- _They are very rude. I have to clean this now._


End file.
